Pink
by browneyesonly4
Summary: Tony's past comes back with some interesting information. Could it actually be possible that a little DiNozzo is running around somewhere? Two part.
1. Rosey Hues

**_A/N:_**_ Hi, all. The inspiration for this lovely two-part set is simple; Tony has a romantic past, and, as much as we wish he could just put it behind him and focus on Ziva, that just sometimes does not happen. So. Here you are. I was hit with this a few weeks ago but I only was able to sit down and do it till now. And, just for anyone who's scared of crying (I was!) I'm watching Animal Planet right now, and it's a special on chimpanzees, and one of them is named Tony. :) If that made you giggle, you're awesome. Okay, after my disclaimer, you can read..._

_**Disclaimer**: I do not own The Switch, NCIS, or an of the characters other than the obvious Gerald, Cassie, and Amanda._

* * *

Sweaty palms, butterflies in her stomach, and a headache pounding against my skull, but I am still determined as I punch in each number. It had to be the same. It just … had to be.

"Hello, Naval Criminal Investigative Service," a polite, young woman's voice greets her. "How may I help you?"

This was her chance. This was the moment she would finally be able to tell him he had a child. A daughter. A perfect copy of both father and mother.

"Uhm … Hi, can you tell me if Ton—Special Agent DiNozzo is in today?" Her voice wavers slightly, her throat constricting around the words. "I … I can call back later if he's not in right now."

She can hear the sound of computer keys and waits nervously, having half a mind to hang up before she could find out. No harm, no foul that way.

"Yes, ma'am, he is. Would you like me to transfer you? He has voicemail if he isn't at his desk."

Oh, but that wouldn't work. It would give her a chance to chicken out. _Er … hey, Tony … I don't know if you remember me, but … just call me back._

No, that's not right. That's not how it's supposed to go. You're supposed to talk face to face or, if necessary, voice to voice, but it can't be delayed. It has to be immediate.

Nevertheless, she hastily murmurs, "Yes, yeah, that would be great." Soft 'Elevator Music' hums in the background, wind chimes and flutes and electronic rhythms trickling through the receiver.

"Special Agent DiNozzo speaking." Her breath catches in her throat, and she is unable to speak a word. "Uh … hello?"

"Tony?" comes her whisper. "Tony, it's Cassie…I don't know if you remember me, but we … we went to a gala together when you were at—"

Cassie hears him chuckle from his end of the phone. "No, no, I remember you. We went to the Winter Ball together, right? I accidentally spilled some whiskey on your dress."

"Yep, that's the one. Listen, Tony, I have something I need to tell you." There is silence.

_This is my chance._

* * *

There is nothing happening in the bullpen this morning, other than the usual Ziva-McGee-DiNozzo banter that always drives Gibbs up the wall. It never used to be as irritating to the retired Marine when Jenny was alive, but now? Now, it was enough to warrant a head-slap any minute.

"Hey! We've got a _rapist_ on the loose, preying on Navy brats. Find out where he is." Gibbs' brisk order brings the office to silence. Ziva jumps a little in her seat and begins dialing her phone, while McGee types madly on his keyboard. But DiNozzo? No. DiNozzo knows more than he is letting on.

"Well, Boss," he states boastfully, "I kind of already know where he is."

"Kind of, DiNozzo?" Gibbs turns around, his blue eyes piercing Tony's. "What do you mean, 'kind of'?"

Reclining, Tony grins and says, "Well, you know." At Gibbs' sharp look, he immediately stands and, with a few clicks of his mouse, puts the address up on the screen. "Actually, you don't, because I didn't tell you. But I'll tell you now." Crossing the bullpen, he admits, "I made a few calls to my old PD friends. Vogler's been on their radar for almost a decade. He just crossed over the Ohio River, Boss. They're picking him up and bringing him here as soon as—'"

"Now!" Gibbs grabs his badge and gun from his desk and is down the hall in the elevator before Tony can say another word.

As a Seaman himself, Tony knows the pain of leaving family behind while they go afloat. The wrenching heartache of not being able to see your family—although, in his case, his family didn't really matter, and the only reason he was so upset after being sent away after Director Shepherd's passing was because he'd made a niche for himself at NCIS—can be overpowering. Hearing that your daughter, your underage, beautiful daughter, is being violated by some piece of scum sitting behind a big executive desk…that must make it Hell.

Tony never tries to imagine life with a wife or kids. Too many little DiNozzos running around…

He shudders at the thought. But what makes him smile is the phone ringing on his desk. "Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo speaking."

This is the moment his world spins out of focus. Her words. Her voice. The softness but urgency in her voice, that same element that made Tony want her back in `96 at the retirement party of the police chief. Peoria PD. Oh, those were the days. Tony never got nervous. Never. Except for Cassie.

He'd swung by her house to pick her up that night because of two reasons. The first was that it was the right thing to do. Men should always offer to escort their dates places. It's the first rule of being a gentleman. Kind of like _Fight Club_, though, you don't talk about it to your friends.

The second reason was that Cassie didn't have a car. She walked to work every day, a small shoe store that sold Italian leather. It had been Tony's weakness, as though he could smell it a mile away in his apartment. Something had drawn him to that store, and he had gone in, and he had seen her, and that had been the start of it. She'd sold him his first pair of Peoria Italian Leather loafers. And he had worn them at the retirement party and took them off at her house.

Cassie had looks spectacular that night. Mind-blowing. Green dress, red hair, clear green eyes and freckles sprinkled across her shoulders, nose, and chest. Tony had wanted to simply carry her upstairs the moment he had laid eyes on her that night, but instead, he had looped his elbow through hers and led her to his car.

He had driven to the party with only a trace of composure. For some reason, Tony felt as though keeping his eyes on the road was impossible. This was the first time he had ever experienced anxiety over a girl. Before, he had always been confident around women. But for some reason or another, Cassie overwhelmed him.

As Cassie introduces herself now, or…_re-_introduces herself, for that matter…Tony recalls the fact she m him so nervous at the party that he had spilled a shot of whiskey on her. After her had apologized profusely, Cassie had merely let out a tinkling laugh and let him take her home.

"Tony? Tony, are you there?" He is pulled out of his reverie and dropped back into his seat by her voice. "Didn't you hear me? I said you have a daughter."

"But…but that's impossible," Tony splutters. "You said—"

"Look," Cassie sighs. There is a pause before she continue shakily, "I know what I said. I know I said I was on the pill, okay? I know. But you have to understand, I never thought—"

"How many others were there?" Tony glances up to see both McGee and Ziva staring at him with curiosity pouring from their eyes. Unfortunately, Ziva's also reflects a hint of jealousy that makes Tony's stomach twist uncomfortably. He shoves them out of sight, however, and prods, "Obviously I wasn't the only one, so tell me how many others there were."

"No, Tony, that's just the—"

"Look, Cassie, you wouldn't have waited this long to tell me if I were the only one you were sleeping with at the time, and how did you get this number again?" Tony tries to keep his voice calm, but is having a difficult time with the shock and betrayal—or is it anger?

There is a wobbly sigh and Tony knows he has made her cry. Without knowing what to say, he softly murmurs, "It's okay. Just … what happened? Why?"

"I need to talk to you more about this, not on the phone." Tony rubs his eyes, knowing what Cassie is going to suggest. "Is there somewhere you can meet us?"

He knows that 'us' is in reference to Cassie and her daughter, but he refuses to admit that it is also his. Not until he sees it. "Yeah, Leo's. It's Italian."

"See you at seven, Tony. She's looking forward to meeting you." His fourteen year old daughter.

"Yep…See you then." As he hangs up the phone, he has the nagging urge to throw his head back and scream, or even better, put the revolver in his desk up to his temple and pull the trigger. But he can't do that. No, because he has a dinner date.

With his daughter.

* * *

Drawing in a deep breath, Cassie zips up the back of her skirt and smoothes down her blouse. "Amanda, you ready?" she calls into the hall. Soon, her fourteen-year-old daughter's bedroom door swings open. There she comes, brown hair speckled with gold, her father's nose and eyes beaming back at her, rimmed in black—the bane of her mother's existence. "You look beautiful."

"Thanks, mom. Do you think Tony will like it?" The hope in Amanda's eyes nearly breaks Cassie's heart as mother takes daughter in her arms.

"Ooh … honey, you know this dinner doesn't mean he's going to become a permanent fixture in your life, right?" As she runs her fingers through Amanda's brown curls, Cassie sighs, remembering what had happened that night.

Tony had returned her safely to her home and both had intended to end the evening with a good night kiss. The moment their lips had touched, though, a fire was ignited in Cassie—and, obviously, Tony as well—and one thing had led to another. She hadn't lied; the bit about the birth control was true. At the time she had blindly believed her doctor's words of, "There's no risk involved. One hundred percent guaranteed."

The way he'd held her, the way his strong hands had cupped her jaw, the way his soft lips had bit and nibbled and worked their way down her body…she had quickly become the victim of his seduction and gave herself up willingly.

Five weeks later, she realized perhaps 'one hundred percent' sometimes isn't really that reliable.

The moment the strip turned pink, she knew Tony was the father. She had slept with two men in her life. One had been the son of her father's best friend. The other had been Tony. The first had been when they had dated for all of high school and consummated their 'love' at prom. They had dated for two years following that and had gotten engaged. Cassie had only called off the engagement after she found out he had been sleeping with her best friend.

She had been twenty-two when she'd met Tony. It was shortly after her faulty engagement and she had felt vulnerable. If the problem with Jerry had not surfaced, she probably would not have been in this situation. There was always that piece of her wondering about how her life would have been different if she had told him, but she had been scared.

Now, that was all changing. Now, she was in D.C. and all of that was just going to have to change.

"Yeah, mom," Amanda murmurs into Cassie's shoulder. "But it would be nice to at least have a dad who likes you."

_Hopefully he likes me, too._

* * *

Black sport coat, khaki pants, blue shirt? No.

Charcoal suit, white shirt, blue tie? No.

Polo shirt with jeans? _No._

This was a dire situation. Tony had nothing to wear, not that it really mattered much, since he didn't exactly _want_ to impress them. Either of them. Although, it would be nice to have a daughter who liked him…

Tony looks into the mirror and sighs. Leather jacket time.

He only ever wore his leather jacket when things were really rough. For example, when his car was towed the day after he slept over at—oh, damn, what was her name?—Susie's apartment. Leather jacket. Or, the time he…_Well, it's obvious_, he tells himself. "I'm pathetic."

Glancing around the room, Tony is thankful he is not going on a date with _just_ Cassie, or the pressure to bring her home would cause a dilemma. Bring her home to see his terribly messy apartment? Or turn her down and make her think he's not interested?

_It's not that I'm not interested_, he barters. _It's just that...wouldn't this be moving kind of fast?_

The look on Ziva's face today had been enough to tell him to hang up the phone, but for some reason, he couldn't. He was torn between accommodating Ziva's feelings and making up for lost time with Cassie.

He stares into the mirror, buttoning up the blue shirt Abby always says makes his eyes look amazing. "Hi," he murmurs, "'I'm Tony.' No, actually, I'm pathetic! Woo-hoo!" Raising his eyebrows, Tony smiles and begins again. "'Hey, I'm Tony, but you can call me dad.' Or, I could just run away and sit in the corner with a bottle of Jack."

Tony has half a mind to just call off the dinner altogether. But he's had enough of being a coward in his life, and maybe meeting his own flesh and blood will be good for him.

As he finally turns the lights off and locks the door of his apartment, he can't help but feel as though this is the beginning of a horrible end.

* * *

"There he is." _There he is_. The moment she laid eyes on him, she knew it was him. "He hasn't changed a bit."

Amanda grins up at her mother. "He's hot."

"Manda! Hey!" Cassie giggles and gives her daughter a gentle nudge. "That's your father you just called 'hot.'" Amanda makes a face and slouches in her seat.

As he approaches, she can't repress the butterflies taking flight in her stomach. Neither mother, nor daughter, can for that matter. "Hey," he murmurs, extending a hand. "I'm Tony."

Cassie stands and takes Tony's hand, before pulling him into a hug. The look of pure fear that is elicited from his eyes is enough to melt her own fears about the evening. When she releases him she introduces, "Tony, this is Amanda.

"Amanda, meet your father."

* * *

**_A/N:_**_ Stay tuned for part two, later today. Poor Tony! :(_


	2. Bitter Blues

_**A/N:** Here is part two. Have a fabulous day! I know I will ;)_

* * *

Tony's jaw drops. There, sitting before him, is an almost exact replica of Cassie, but with his hair and eyes. "Very nice to meet you, Amanda," he mumbles, before pulling out Cassie's seat for her. He then takes his own and sips on the glass of ice water in front of him.

There is an awkward silence.

"So … Tony, how was your day?"

"Pretty stressful, actually." As soon as the words are out of his mouth, Tony realizes how they sounded. "The case we're working is pretty crazy and my boss is angry."

Cassie's face tells him everything he needs to know. "And you now have a fourteen-year-old daughter." Though she is smiling, Tony can tell she is hurt.

"The more the merrier, right?" He tries to smile back at her but fails, knowing it's reflecting as a grimace or sneer. "Look, I'm really bad at this." Although the comment is directed at Cassie, Amanda pipes in.

"It's okay, Tony! I thought I was some sort of test-tube baby. It's awkward for me to meet you, but I mean, hey, now my friends have a hot guy to talk about, right?"

_She's so much like me…_ "Yeah, right." He shoots her a grin before asking, "What are you getting?"

He expects Amanda's mouth to settle into a thin line like her mother's as she reads the menu, but he is surprised to see her brow furrow and her lips gently purse, much like his. When she looks up, Tony is taken aback at how familiar her expression really is. "I think I'm getting the Chicken Marsala."

"Atta girl!" Tony lets out a bark of laughter before stating, "That's what I'm getting. Which leaves … the salmon in brown butter for Miss Cassie? Unless her tastes have changed." He was going to add, _Since having a baby_…but he thought that would sound harsh.

"I am far too predictable," Cassie says through laughter, visibly relaxing.

"So, Amanda, are you into —"

"Sports. Give me basketball and football any day." The girl sips on her hot tea before muttering bitterly, "None of that stupid dress-up and prance-around-a-stage stuff for me." Tony raises an eyebrow and fights off a smirk.

"Favorite teams?"

"Ohio State for basketball…" Tony cheers internally. "…and Purdue for football."

"What?" Tony blurts. "No, Cassie, this cannot be our child." He is obviously joking, and neither of the women take him too seriously. "Purdue? Really?"

"They're hot."

_Oh. That explains it. Cheerleaders aren't too bad, either._

"Tony, I know this is all so sudden," Cassie abruptly declares, "but would you mind taking a DNA test?"

Stunned, Tony's jaw tenses a bit. "Uh … like, a paternity test?" She nods. "I thought you were positive I was the…"

"It's kind of like Luke and his daughter on _Gilmore Girls_," Amanda jumps in. "It's just a little experiment."

Tony's eyes narrow but he attempts to appear good-natured. "How big are we talking here?" He lets what he hopes is a smile spread across his face.

"It's between you and one other guy right now. My hypothesis is that you will be the positive match." There is a gleam to Amanda's pretty blue eyes that reminds Tony of a green-eyed goddess.

_We have another Abby Sciuto on our hands_. _Make no promises that you cannot keep. Make no promises you cannot_—

"You know, my coworker has a love interest with forensics," Tony states despite his thoughts, stabbing a piece of chicken. "I should talk to her and see if she can get you in to see her lab. You'd have a heart attack."

"You're kidding!" Amanda says, deadpan. When Tony makes no effort to backtrack and just nods, she squeals, "That's _awesome_, Tony! Thanks!", drawing several dirty looks from nearby diners. "

Tony can just smile and hope that everything turns out okay.

* * *

The Vogler case was closed by the end of that week, but it was especially rough on Tony because, as with any father—and Gibbs was no exception to this—would, seeing the pictures of young, dead, fifteen-year-old female rape victims is difficult.

Vogler had admitted to the rapes of all ten girls—including two six-year-olds—with the statement of, 'They're all just so beautiful.'

Tony had wanted to puke, because looking at him, up from every picture, was Amanda's face, and from the victims' families, Cassie and his own faces. Half of him wanted to run and hug Amanda but, knowing he would probably only succeed in freaking her out, he had resisted. He had, however, decided to call Cassie and ask about Amanda, purely out of 'curiosity.'

Since knowing he may have a daughter, things for him had changed remarkably. No more one-night-stands, no more ogling every woman who walked into the building, and definitely no more flirting with Ziva. Tony had expected it to be difficult, but now he can shove lascivious thoughts aside completely, with no feelings of loss or guilt.

Hopefully, his life would stay this way.

* * *

Three weeks, eight secret dinners, and a cotton swab later, Tony is sitting at his desk, preparing a picture frame to hold the face of his new fourteen-year-old baby girl.

"What is that for?" Ziva murmurs, suddenly leaning over his shoulder. "Or, should I ask, _who_?"

Brushing dust off of the glass, Tony sets the frame on his desk and smiles, "Remember that special bank?"

"Uh … yes. The one you donated to so that you could 'beautify the Earth'?"

"Yes, Miss Davíd, that's the one," he sneers.

Ziva says nothing, but stands up and crosses the cubicle to her own desk and sits down. She is either ignoring the situation, or ignoring Tony. Either way, her set jaw shows she is determined to not allow him the enjoyment of upsetting her.

The phone rings and Ziva's eyes snap to it, then to Tony's. "You had better answer that. It may be your 'special bank.'" Though her tone is harsh, she is looking at him with softness in her brown irises.

Although Tony does not respond, he gives her a small smile. The chemistry between them has become one-sided over the past few weeks as Tony has been preparing to become a real father, unlike his own, to Amanda. While Tony's pulled away, he's noticed Ziva hanging around him more, but not in an annoying way. In more of a 'little sister' brand of nosiness. It reminds him of when he was with Jeanne Benoit, but he can't bring himself to mention her, especially to Ziva, of all people.

Maybe she has matured. Or maybe he has. Either way, things have changed.

And now the ringing phone will tell him his fate.

"Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo, speaking," he murmurs. McGee saunters past with a briefcase and a coffee, shooting him a curious a look and an even more curious look at Ziva, who is staring at Tony with an utmost wistful expression on her face.

"Tony, it's Cassie."

And it's in those three words that Tony knows the truth.

* * *

She feels horrible. She really does, knowing that she's just sent the poor man jumping over hurdles and getting his cheek swabbed and taking her daughter—and who she thought was also _his_ daughter—out to dinner all the time…

Just to find out it isn't even his kid.

"I'm so sorry, Tony," Cassie sighs into the phone. "I swear, you were the only missing link I could think of. This was really horrible of me."

There is silence on the line and people speaking in the background, but nothing comes from Tony himself. "Tony?"

_I don't blame him for hating me._

* * *

Ziva can tell by the way Tony has his eyes closed and his lower lip has pulled down slightly that he has received bad news. From the bank? From his father? From who?

She had been kidding about the sperm bank. Only kidding.

Her computer makes a noise and, when she looks, McGee has sent her an instant message.

_**Elf Lord:**__ What's going on with our Senior Agent?_

Making shifty eyes between Tony and McGee, Ziva quickly shrugs and, though intending to reply, does not.

There is nothing she can do to help him this time. There is not guilt on his face, but more heartbreak. Does he even have a girlfriend?

* * *

"No, Cassie, I—I completely understand. It was a mistake." But he doesn't understand. There are several things he doesn't understand but the first and foremost is how something like this could have happened.

Why did he even care that Amanda wasn't his daughter? Did it really matter? It's not like Tony had been planning to get down on one knee and marry Cassie, anyway. That wasn't how he was going to deal with it at all. He was just going to be there for his daughter like his father had never been there for him, and hope for the best. What more could he have done?

"I don't blame you if you hate me, Tony." There is a muffled voice coming from the other line that sounds similar to Amanda's pitch, and there is no doubt in Tony's mind that she's just as upset as he and her mother are. "No, Amanda, it's not a good—Here, Tony." He can tell the phone is being shuffled to Amanda and is not surprised when her cheerful optimism channels through the receiver.

"Tony, I just wanted to say that if you had been my dad, you would have been a great one. You made the effort and went the distance and just because you aren't my biological daddy, you'd might as well sign on for it. Because Gerald Stone—whoever that is—told mom he didn't want to hear from her again, and—Mom, stop, I'm telling Tony. He deserves to know!—and therefore I think I should just focus on you." A beat. "Tony?"

His words are thick in his throat as he says, "Yeah, kid. O'course." But he knows how it's really going to go down. They'll stay in contact for a few months—maybe even less than that, a few weeks or so—and then they'd each just stop talking. It wouldn't be mutual and it wouldn't be angry or bitter. Lives would just have to continue and that's the way it would have to go.

Tony doesn't realize his eyes have been closed until he opens them and sees Ziva staring straight at him, empathy teeming in her brown orbs.

"I'm going to write you a letter every week telling you what's going on, okay? Even when I'm, like, seventy."

This draws a chuckle from him, but it doesn't stop the pounding in his chest and head. "That sounds great, Amanda." He doesn't bother to remind her that he will probably be dead by the time she's seventy.

"Here's mom again."

_It's like a divorce. No one knows what the other's thinking until something like this happens. And even then…Screw it._

* * *

As her daughter talks to Tony, Cassie can only look on in horror. She'd promised Tony that he had been the only one. She'd forgotten completely the night of drunken bliss, shortly after she had called off the engagement and before she had met Tony in the shoe store.

Gerald Stone, a realtor from Sunny California, spending time in Peoria on business. And unfortunately, at the time, he was pretty damn sexy. Brown hair with gold specks, blue eyes, and a defined nose. A personality to die for. And he had asked her out for drinks.

It hadn't ended there. And then Cassie had forgotten it all. When she met Tony, she was still reeling in feelings of self-doubt and anger from her stupid ex-fiancé, and her mind purged all memories of Mr. Gerald Stone.

But he was the father, through and through. No one can argue science. And although Amanda reminded Cassie undoubtedly of Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo—or, as she remembered, Officer Anthony DiNozzo—there was no questioning what the DNA test showed. Regardless of what she wanted, the reality was in front of her.

Cassie knows what will happen now, and wishes Amanda would stop making promises to Tony that she cannot—or will not—keep. They will talk for a few weeks, and then Amanda will focus all of her attention on something else and forget about Tony completely. She just hopes that poor Tony will be able to handle it.

When her daughter hands the phone back, Cassie is on the verge of tears.

"Tony, before you say another word—"

* * *

"Cassie, this was just a huge misunderstanding. You've got an incredible girl on your hands. Trust me, I envy you. This pretty much sucks, but, hey, that's life, right? C'est la vie."

But Tony doesn't believe this. Not for a moment. He just knows he has to say something to keep Cassie's emotions in check.

"Oh, Tony, I am so sorry I got you involved in this…I should have thought of Gerald long before I contacted you."

"It's kind of like the movie _The Switch_, right? Only I'm Ronan and Gerald's Wally? It's alright. At least I wasn't about to propose." Tony forces out a laugh and hopes it sounds natural. "Anyway, Cassie, it's okay. I wish you both the best. Call me sometime and give me an update."

There is a long pause before Tony hears a quiet, "Okay, Tony. Goodbye," followed by an almost inaudible click.

Turning to Ziva, he mutters, "Never have sex with a guy and then lie about it. Not when you're with someone else. And if you do, don't have the first guy's kid." Before she can even ask, Tony's at McGee's desk with the warning of, "And you, don't ask a girl who just got out of a bad relationship to go to a boss' retirement party and then sleep with her, no matter how hot she looks, okay? Even if she's bangin', don't kiss her good night and—above all—do _not_ spill whiskey on her dress. In fact? Don't drink at all. Stay sober at all times."

A shooting pain rips through the back of Tony's head as Gibbs walks around him. "The next piece of advice you've gotta follow is 'never get married.' Whatcha got for me?"

Back to life.

* * *

_**A/N: **You can always trust Gibbs to pulls us all back to reality, right? I am heavily considering a sequel from Gibbsey's point of view. But who knows. :) Thanks for reading! Kat_


End file.
